The Debt
by Flynne
Summary: Donatello is trapped, Michelangelo can't free him, and the enemy is closing in. But unbeknownst to the turtles, someone has been watching out for them.


_This was written several months ago and posted on tumblr for Skitsmix's birthday. Mentions events in "Any Cost", but it's not absolutely necessary to read that story before reading this one. _

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The Debt

Mikey ambled along next to Don, munching pistachios as he watched the readout fluctuate on the electronic scanner in his brother's hand. It was time for Don's monthly survey of the widespread sensor array he'd constructed in the tunnels. Mikey had cheerfully volunteered to help, so Don had saddled him with a duffel bag stuffed with extra electronic components and tools and instructed him to stay close.

The pistachios had been Mikey's one condition for coming along. He'd been on these maintenance trips before and knew once he left, it'd be a long time before his stomach and food were reunited. Don had rolled his eyes but allowed the snack - "Just as long as you don't get pistachio shells all over my stuff."

They'd covered a good bit of ground by the time Mikey got hungry. Don glanced up from his scanner when he heard Mikey open the plastic bag. "You're digging in already?"

Mikey chuckled. "Dude, it's been over an hour. You've been so wrapped up in your gameboy that you've lost track of time."

"It's not a gameboy," came the distracted answer. "Well, it _was_, but now it's an electrical scanner tuned to our security system."

"Yeah, I know," Mikey said, one side of his mouth lifted in a grin. "You've only told me about it about a million times over the years." He could tell Don was only half-listening, focused on the equipment in his hand. When his brother veered a little too close to the side of the tunnel, Mikey reached out and snagged the back of his belt, tugging just enough to steer Don clear of the protruding pipes without breaking his concentration.

They passed a drainage junction just as he cracked another handful of pistachios. The shells plopped into the knee-deep water and the crunching echoed off the damp walls. The sound was enough to cause Don to look up and give Mikey an amused, exasperated glance. "Mikey, if you want to come along, you're going to need to find a quieter snack for next time. Your nuts are going to get us in trouble one of these days."

"But Donny," Mikey said, smirking wickedly, "I'm a _turtle_. In the strictest sense of the word, I don't really _have_ -." His words were cut off as Don slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Mikey. Let it go."

Mikey sputtered and swiped the back of his arm across his mouth when Don removed his hand. "Gee, Don, glad you _washed your hands_ before you touched my mouth."

Don rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. "You brought it upon yourself." He sobered quickly, though, frowning down at the readout once more.

"Everything okay?" Mikey asked. He rolled up the bag of nuts and stuffed them into a side pocket on the duffel bag, drawing close to Don's shoulder.

"It's odd," Don said. "I think I'm picking up another signal here, but it's really faint. I'm not sure where it's coming from." He stopped at another junction, tilting his head as he peered down the narrow corridor. "Maybe down this way?" He started off, ripples branching out in front of him in the water as he walked.

The mischief faded from Mikey's face as he cast a wary look around. The dim tunnels were silent and deserted. Even the city workers almost never came down there - partly due to the fact that his family kept the drains clear of debris and patched up any damage as best as they could. Clean tunnels meant that repair crews didn't need to come down nosing around.

"Something's off," Don said, keeping his voice low. "I'm picking up some sort of weak transmitter up ahead, but it's not one of mine. I can't see anything, though." He slowed his pace, lifting his head to scan the walls as he walked.

Mikey, following a few yards behind, stopped and bent close to the wall, squinting at a smeared area in the algae coating the brick. "I think someone's been down here. Looks like something brushed up against the - "

A deafening _boom _and blinding spray of water made Mikey jump - but the agonized cry from Don sent a terrifying chill racing through him, and he was bounding forward before the last echoes had faded. "Donny!" He skidded to a halt, staring in dismay at the metal grate that had slammed down from the ceiling, separating him from his brother.

Don was collapsed on his side on the floor of the tunnel just past the grate. He'd lifted his head and shoulders above the water, but his face was twisted with pain and his teeth were clenched tight as he struggled to keep silent.

"Donny? Donny, talk to me!" Mikey crouched down in the water and pressed against the grate. The openings were too small to allow him to reach through to his brother. He curled his fingers around the metal grid instead.

"M-my leg!" Don gasped.

Mikey swallowed hard, sliding his hand down the grate into the water. His eyes widened when he felt the square grid terminate in long, wicked spikes. The spikes were long enough and sharp enough to crunch through a shell. Don's reflexes had allowed him to throw himself out of the way...but not far enough. One of the spikes had plunged through the side of Don's calf, pinning him to the tunnel floor.

"Oh, _shell,_" Mikey whispered shakily. His fingers traced the outline of his brother's leg, forcing himself to stay calm and choke back the rising panic. The spike had missed the bone, but was buried in the thick muscle with the sharp tip embedded in the brick below. "Donny, I'm gonna get you out of here," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. He shrugged the duffel off his shoulder, letting it sink beneath the water without a second thought. He gripped the grate with both hands and braced himself, trying to raise it.

"Wait..." Don propped himself up with one arm and gestured at the top of the tunnel. "Check up there. There might be a release mechanism at the top."

"Yeah, okay." Mikey quickly scaled the metal crossbars, reaching up with one hand to run his fingers along the ceiling. He moved from one side of the grate to the other, poking at both sides of the bars, but he felt nothing but cold metal and stone. "I can't find it. There's nothing." He let go of the grate and landed with a splash, well away from Don's leg, then gripped the grate and tried again, lifting with slow, steady pressure.

The metal dug sharply into his hands but he took another deep breath and tried again. He could feel it starting to give and the grate eased up a few millimeters. Mikey took another deep breath and heaved, but the mechanism was too strong and the grate quivered as it thumped back into place, wringing another choked cry from Don.

"I'm sorry," Mikey said, breathing heavily from a combination of exertion and fear. "I can't get it on my own."

"R-Raph and Leo…"

Mikey shook his head in dismay. "They left for a run the same time we left, remember? They'll be halfway across the city by now!" He shook out his aching hands and pulled his Shellcell from his belt, fumbling with the buttons as he hit the speed dial. "C'mon, c'mon, pick up...Leo! Leo, we've got a problem." He hurriedly told Leo what had happened, keeping his anxious gaze on Donatello. He flipped the phone closed when he was done, stuffing it back in his belt as he crouched down to be at Don's eye level. "They're on their way. But it'll take about forty-five minutes for them to get here. I could call someone else but we're so far out it'd take them just as long to get here..."

"Mikey, I think you should get out of here." Don's voice shook from pain and from the chill of the water. "That signal I was picking up...odds are whoever set this trap knows it's been sprung. They could be here any minute."

"Your must've blown a fuse in your brain, because I _know _you don't really think I'm leaving you," Mikey said firmly. Even though he knew it wouldn't do any good, he gripped the grate and tried to lift again.

Despite the pain, Don tried to smile. "Yeah, that's probably what happened. Hey, don't worry about that right now," he said, seeing Mikey's arms start to shake with the effort. "Raph and Leo will be here soon."

"I can't just stand here and do nothing!" Mikey shifted his hands to get a better grip, bracing himself to lift again.

A knife came hurtling out of the darkness, and only the fact that Mikey had a shell saved him. The blade whipped across his side, slashing open the tough skin between carapace and plastron before catching on the rim of his shell and spinning off into the far wall. Mikey gasped and whirled around, instinctively grabbing for his nunchaku; but the knife had also sliced through his belt, sending the leather strap splashing into the water at his feet - along with his weapons.

Mikey barely had time to lift his arms to defend himself himself before the first Foot ninja attacked. He couldn't see his chucks, couldn't feel them with his feet in the water below, so he was forced to fight hand-to-hand. The first ninja wasn't carrying a weapon, but the second was. Mikey ducked under the wild swing of a tanto, using the first man as a shield. He dodged and struck, finally throwing the ninja at his comrade as a third enemy closed in from the right.

He dropped the encroaching ninja with a blow to the neck, but the man with the tanto was moving in to slash at him again. Mikey threw up his arm to shield his head, and the blade struck him on the outside of his forearm before blundering forward to leave a ragged scratch on his plastron. A snarl of pain escaped his clenched teeth as he ducked low, sweeping his leg to take his opponent out at the knees. The ninja toppled with a splash, falling into his companions and knocking them back.

"Mikey! On your right!" Don's voice cut through the chaos, and as Mikey leaped to his feet once more, he threw out his right hand. It was a blind reach, but the solid wood of Don's bo slapped against his palm. He yanked the weapon through the hole in the grate just in time to strike down another ninja as it lunged at him.

He stood in a half crouch, holding the bo across his body in both hands. The Foot soldiers paused in their attack, sizing up this new threat...But the tunnel was filling with a shadowy swarm of black-clad figures and, armed with Don's bo or not, there were dozens of them and only one of him.

The Foot surged forward once more. Mikey whirled the bo in a deadly arc, forcing the enemy back. Even though the narrowness of the tunnel prevented the Foot from attacking him more than a few at a time, Mikey was hampered as well; the bo was keeping them back, but the tunnel was too narrow for him to use the weapon to its full potential and he had to confine himself to a narrow square of ground to keep himself between his brother and the Foot. Time and again, an errant blow slipped through his defenses, leaving blood or a bruise behind. He fought in grim silence, but his breaths became harsher, hissing through clenched teeth.

Then, turning on his heel to bring the bo crashing down on another ninja, he saw it - the black ripple of movement on the other side of the grate. Foot soldiers were closing in on Don, out of his reach, and there was nothing he could do to protect him.

"Mikey, get out of here!"

"No!" Mikey didn't have the breath to say more. He spun the bo in his hands, feeling the solid wood shudder as it cracked against bone, then rammed the weapon backwards, threading it unerringly through a hole in the grate. The end of the staff slammed into the solar plexus of the ninja closest to Don. He dropped without a word and sank beneath the water, but more were coming.

One of the Foot took advantage of the opening and hurled himself onto Mikey's back. He curled an arm around Mikey's neck, the blade of a knife flashing in the dim light. Mikey yanked the bo free of the grate, whirling it up in front of his face in time to stop the blade bare inches from his throat. He whipped the staff down and ducked forward, tearing the ninja away from his shell and sending him careening into a knot of his own men.

The move gave Mikey a little breathing room, but Don was out of time. A burly, black-clad figure lunged forward, quick as a striking snake. He struck aside the hand Don lifted to defend himself and seized the turtle by the strap of the duffel bag slanting across his chest, jerking him partway out of the water. Don's jaw clamped down on a strangled sound of pain as his trapped leg twisted, but his eyes burned with defiance. Time slowed to a crawl as Mikey saw the Foot ninja raise his hanbo, preparing to bring the solid wooden staff down on his brother's skull.

A desperate cry tore out of his chest. "_Donny!"_

_**"****NYPD! Freeze!"**_ A blinding beam of light sliced through the gloom, and the commanding shout reverberated forcefully in the tunnel. "Weapons down and hands on your heads _now!"_ The glare of the spotlight blocked any view of what might be behind it, but the telltale _snick _of at least one gun cocking echoed sharply in the silence.

The Foot leader hesitated. More than likely, the number of ninja outnumbered the police...but most of the fighters were on the opposite side of the grate with Michelangelo, and even though just a handful of Foot ninja were a potentially deadly threat, even _they_ weren't stupid enough to take on an unknown number of armed officers that they couldn't see.

In the space of a heartbeat, the leader hissed a command, released Donatello, and darted off down a side tunnel with the rest of his men. Michelangelo gasped in relief as his assailants retreated - but he couldn't stand down, not when his brother was hurt and trapped. The interruption had spared Don's life, but had only substituted one hostile threat for another.

The water rippled as someone behind the light began to move forward. Even though Mikey felt nearly choked by his own helplessness, he lifted the bo and glared fiercely into the light. "Stay away from him!" But what could he do? He knew there was another way around to get to the opposite side of the grate, but that meant leaving Don alone...but if he stayed where he was, he couldn't protect his brother.

"Wait! Wait, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt him!" The blinding glare of the light subsided as the spotlight was pointed at the ceiling. Mikey's eyes widened as he saw one man - just one man - standing in the center of the tunnel. He wasn't wearing a uniform. A handgun was in his right hand while a second firearm was tucked into a shoulder holster. The spotlight had been attached to the holster's strap, allowing him to carry the light with him while keeping both hands free.

He holstered his second gun and advanced slowly, holding his arms away from his body. "My name's JT Fuentes," he said. "I'm a friend of Casey Jones. I want to help."

"You know Casey?" Mikey asked hesitantly. He exchanged a brief glance with Don. Despite Casey's frequent bone-headedness, he was family, and the turtles trusted him with the secret of their existence. If this person knew to use Casey's name as a password of sorts to let them know he was a friend, it probably meant that Casey trusted him and he was telling the truth.

Probably.

"Yeah, I've known him for a while." JT took another careful step forward. "I promise, I just want to help. Tell me what to do."

Mikey made his decision. "Okay," he said, setting aside the bo to lean it against the tunnel wall. "We've got to lift the grate. It's pinning his leg to the floor. I think it'll move but I can't lift it on my own."

JT nodded. "Got it." One side of his mouth lifted in a smile. "I may be skinny, but I'm tough." He hooked the spotlight on a pipe where it would be out of the way, then carefully stepped around Don and threaded his fingers through the grate while Mikey took hold of the metal crossbars from the other side.

"You're gonna have to get your leg free on your own, Donny," Mikey said. "Think you can do that?"

Don swallowed hard, but nodded grimly. "Yeah."

"Count of three?" JT asked.

"Yeah." Mikey nodded. "One, two, three!"

At first, the grate didn't budge. But as Mikey and JT lifted, the powerful spring began to give. Don braced himself, using his hands to hold his knee against the ground. He shut his eyes and locked his jaw closed to keep silent. Centimeter by centimeter, the grate lifted, until Don gave a sudden gasp and lurched forward, dragging himself out from beneath the grate. In the glare of the spotlight, Mikey could see where his gear had fallen...and he could see the sudden red bloom of blood beneath the surface of the water.

"Don!" He struggled to lift the gate higher.

JT shook his head. "I'll take care of him! You can get here if you go around, right?"

"But…" Don was _right there_, all Mikey had to do was get under the grate…

"Go! I swear, I'll look out for him." Mikey nodded once, and the pair of them let go.

The metal spikes crashed down and Mikey sprinted away, barely remembering to snag Don's bo along with his own belt and weapons. He threw silence and caution to the wind, bounding and splashing his way through the tunnels. He hauled himself up a ladder and darted through another tunnel, headed back the way he had come. When he reached the next junction, he splashed down and bolted the dozen meters to Don's side.

Don's back was against the wall. JT was kneeling waist-deep in the water in front of him, and he'd propped Don's foot against his shoulder. His belt was cinched tightly just below Don's knee to act as a tourniquet. He'd already shed the plaid button-down he'd worn over his t-shirt and torn the material into strips. His mouth was tight with tension and his olive complexion looked a little pale beneath his shaggy black hair, but his hands were steady as he bound the wound. Blood had already soaked through the first layer of fabric.

Mikey crouched behind Don in the water, sliding his arms beneath his brother's and around his chest for support as well as for warmth. "Here," he said, holding out his ruined belt. JT took the leather and wrapped it snugly over the top of the makeshift bandage. Don didn't make a sound, but he leaned back heavily against Mikey and pressed his face against his brother's neck.

JT tied the belt in place with the last strip of flannel. "There. That oughta hold it for now."

"Thanks, man," Mikey said earnestly. Now that the threat had passed, his own injuries were starting to make themselves known and he was feeling a little shaky. He hugged Don closer, ignoring the burn as the cold water touched his wounds. "I don't know where you came from or what the shell you were doing down here, but you saved his life."

JT smiled a little sheepishly as he loosened the tourniquet. "To tell the truth, I was looking for you guys. I've been looking for a long time." Mikey stared at him in surprise.

Don lifted his head from Mikey's shoulder. "Why?"

The tremor in Don's voice jolted Mikey back to the situation at hand. "Hang on, Donny," he said gently. He was curious, too, but Don was shivering badly and he knew any explanations would have to wait. "Let's get you somewhere safe before we start playing twenty questions, huh? Come on, time for a turtle-back ride." Mikey lifted his brother upright, giving JT a grateful look as the man kept Don's injured leg free of the water and helped him balance until he was settled on Mikey's back.

Don hugged Mikey tightly around the neck as he was carried, pressing his forehead against his shell. The three of them remained silent as they traveled. Mikey took a detour as soon as he could, leading them out of the flooded tunnels. Eventually the only sound was the soft squelching of JT's waterlogged sneakers against the ground. When Mikey was satisfied that they'd traveled far enough to take a break, he stopped and carefully knelt, allowing Don to slide to the ground.

Mikey bent over his brother's leg to inspect the bandage, darting a glance up to the man who'd followed them. "Okay, Lucy, you feel like 'splainin' why you've been looking for us?"

JT crouched down beside them. "Well, I don't expect that you'd remember, but I've actually met you before. I'm an undercover cop. I was in with the Purple Dragons trying to bust them for arms dealing last year when my cover was blown. You guys saved my life."

The brothers exchanged a startled glance. They _did _remember. They hadn't thought much about the officer they'd rescued after they'd returned home, too preoccupied with the mysterious rifts that had opened and too shaken from their own close call. "That was _you_?" Don finally asked.

"Sure was. After you guys got me out of there...well, I wasn't sure what to think. But Casey's my friend, and I knew he'd gotten mixed up in some of the wild stuff during that dinosaur alien fiasco, so I went to his place to tell him what I'd seen. I figured he'd be the only one who wouldn't think I was crazy. Turns out I went to the right place." He looked earnestly at the brothers. "You should know he didn't tell me much - no names, nothing about where you lived - but he told me enough so that I'd know I wasn't hallucinating. After that…" He huffed a laugh. "I've spent a lot of my time off in back alleys and sewer tunnels. I figured even if I never met you, I could at least do my part and try to keep thugs out of your stomping grounds…wherever they were."

The brothers were silent for a minute or two before Don said quietly, "Well...considering what happened tonight, I'm glad you did." He managed a smile. "I'm Don. This is Mikey."

JT smiled. "Good to finally meet you."

"Same." Don smiled too, but another shudder ran through him and he curled more closely into Mikey's arms.

Mikey held his shaking brother close and pulled out his Shellcell. He placed a quick call to Leo to let him know that he and Don were safe and on their way home - leaving out the part about the attack and JT for now - and then patted Don's shoulder as he hung up. "Okay, bro, time to blow this popsicle stand and get you home. Leo and Raph will be there by the time we get back."

"Are you guys going to be all right?" JT asked.

"Aw, sure," Mikey said, crouching in front of Don to lift him onto his back again. JT braced his hands on Don's shell to steady him as they rose. "Thanks for helping us," Mikey said again.

JT smiled. "Anytime. Listen, I know you guys are pretty good at looking out for yourselves, but if you ever need anything..." He dug out his wallet and fumbled around until he found a receipt that was only slightly damp. He scribbled his phone number on the back and held it out for Don to take. "That's my cell. I've always got it with me."

Mikey grinned. "Thanks! That'll come in handy if we get caught the next time Donny steals a car."

Don was huddled in an exhausted heap against his brother's back, but he was alert enough to yelp out a startled "Mikey!"

JT stared as Mikey laughed. "Nah, don't worry about it! I'm kidding. Don totally wouldn't get caught."

JT rolled his eyes. "I don't want to know."

"Can you find your way out from here?" Don asked.

"Yeah. Like I said, I've spent a lot of time wandering around down here over the past year." He lifted his hand in farewell. "Take care, guys."

Mikey and Don headed off down the tunnel as JT walked the other way, moving towards a nearby ladder that would eventually take him to the surface.

The trip home was uneventful, but it wasn't easy. Mikey and Don had covered a lot of ground, and even though Mikey hadn't been seriously injured in the fight, his wounds still hurt him. His right forearm was the worst, throbbing from the wound the tanto had left, but he set his jaw and kept moving.

He hadn't thought to tell Leo which direction he and Don would be coming from, but it didn't matter. He came around a bend in the tunnel and smiled to see Raph pacing back and forth like a panther.

"Leo!" Raph's bark echoed over his shoulder into the lair. He hurried forward, frowning darkly. "Aw, shell, Donny. Come on, let's get you inside."

Mikey stood still, letting Don slide down his shell to stand on his good leg. Raph braced him up, helping Don hop along beside him as they moved inside. Mikey felt oddly light, relieved of his burden - and dizzy. But before he could stumble, Leo was there.

"Hey, buddy. You okay?" Leo ducked underneath Mikey's good arm and snugged him against his side.

Mikey leaned gratefully against him. "Yeah, I'm good," he replied wearily.

Leo looked concerned as he took in the bruises and trickles of blood marring his brother's body, but when he saw there were no serious wounds, he gave Mikey a little smile and held him a little closer. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

They followed Don and Raph to the bathroom. Raph had already maneuvered Don into the shower to rinse the worst of the grime away. Don couldn't bear to let his injured leg touch the ground, so Raph positioned himself half-in, half-out of the shower stall, holding on to Don's arm to help him balance on one foot. Don didn't take long, but by the time he was done, the bandage on his leg was soaked through and he was starting to shake.

Raph reached in to shut off the water and handed him a towel, propping Don up while he dried himself off. "Okay, come on, braniac. Let's get that thing off your leg and see what you did to yourself." He let Don use him as a crutch as they headed out to the main room.

Leo patted Mikey's shell. "All right, Mikey. Your turn."

Mikey climbed into the shower, handing Leo his gear in exchange for the bottle of wound disinfectant. Even though the scrubbing solution was mild, the suds still burned. Fresh trickles of blood seeped from the deepest cuts as the warm water loosened the clots that had formed.

Leo was waiting with a towel and a clean mask when he stepped out of the shower. Mikey gingerly dried himself off, then leaned against Leo again as they moved to join Raph and Don. Mikey didn't really _need_ the help...but he was exhausted, and the support was a welcome relief. He made a beeline for the couch, but Leo steered him towards a folding chair instead.

"Sorry, Mikey," he said, giving his shoulder a sympathetic pat. "Sensei won't like it if we get blood on the couch again. Just sit here for a little bit while I patch you up, okay?"

Mikey huffed, face pulling into a pout. "_Donny's_ getting blood on the couch."

"No he's not," Raph said, rolling his eyes. He was kneeling by Don's leg in front of the couch, flushing the wound. Strips of soggy, bloody flannel were piled on the floor next to a bowl of red-tinged water...but there wasn't any blood on the cushions.

"He's _on_ the couch and he's _bleeding_, though," Mikey muttered, slouching into the chair.

Leo's brow ridges drew together as he caught sight of the cut on Mikey's arm. It wasn't a big wound, but the blade had struck on the outside of his forearm where there wasn't a lot of muscle, and his arm was laid open to the bone. "Bad news, Mikey. This one'll need stitches."

"Aw, _man!_" Mikey grimaced. "Do that one first, okay? I wanna get it over with."

Leo gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat with one hand as he reached for the first aid kit with the other. "It'll be over soon."

"Okay, spill," Raph said, digging out a roll of gauze. "What the shell happened to you guys tonight?"

"We had a little Foot trouble...uh, no pun intended," Mikey answered. He deliberately averted his gaze from Leo's hands as he started stitching, distracting himself by telling his brothers what had happened: about the trap and the subsequent attack, and about the unlooked-for help that had come at the last moment.

Nobody spoke for a minute after he was done. The thunderous look on Raph's face had faded into a thoughtful frown at the mention of JT. Leo hadn't ceased in his gentle dressing of Mikey's wounds, but the set of his mouth clearly communicated that the next Foot patrol they came across would have a pretty bad day.

Raph sighed gustily, putting the finishing touch on Don's bandage. "I can't believe it. I totally forgot about that guy."

"So did I. But I'm glad he didn't forget about _us_. It's good to know we've got another friend out there if we need one." Leo finished putting a series of butterfly bandages on the gash in Mikey's side and rose to his feet, giving his brother's head an affectionate rub. "And I'm glad you were with Donny when this happened. You did good, Mikey." Mikey leaned into Leo's hand with a sigh.

"The big question is if we've gotta be worried about these gate trap things every time we leave the lair," Raph said.

"I don't think so," Don answered. "I _did_ pick up on the unusual frequency. I just didn't know what to look for. I'll be able to recognize it now. If there are any others, I'll be able to find them easily."

"Good to know," Leo said. "We'll plan on staying close to home until we can scan the sewer adequately." Raph wrinkled his nose at the idea of being stuck in the lair, but offered no protests.

The brothers went to bed not long after. Mikey could hear Raph and Leo moving around out in the main room for a little while as they cleaned up, but before long the lair was dark and silent. Mikey burrowed deeper into his blankets with a sigh. He could still feel the tingle of adrenaline from the close call, and his arm throbbed with every beat of his heart, but the longer he lay still, the less he noticed the discomfort.

He slipped into sleep so gradually that he didn't even realize when he'd dropped off, but when a muffled sound outside his room broke into his dreams, his eyes snapped open. His sleep-fogged brain wasn't sure, but he thought he'd heard a pained yelp. He hopped down from his loft, wincing as at the flare of pain from the cuts and bruises that had stiffened while he slept.

Mikey opened his door and poked his head out. A single lamp had been switched on, and even though the light was dim, he still blinked as his vision adjusted. A quick glance around showed what had awakened him. Don was halfway between the lamp and the couch, leaning heavily on his bo with his head bowed.

"Donny? What's wrong?" Mikey hurried out to meet him, brow furrowed from a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Don lifted his head to give him a strained smile. "I've been trying to sleep but my leg hurts too much. Thought I'd come sit out here for a bit, but I lost my balance and banged my leg against the couch. I didn't mean to wake you. Go on back to bed."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Mikey answered, rolling his eyes. "Ninjas who lose their balance should _always_ be left alone." Despite his teasing, his movements were gentle as he stepped forward to take the bo and slip under Don's arm to be a replacement crutch. "Come on, let's get you settled."

Don leaned into him gratefully, knowing better than to offer any objections. Mikey quickly and smoothly transferred his brother's weight to the couch, placing a stack of pillows beneath the injured leg to elevate it just a little and take stress off the damaged muscle. "There." He patted Don's shoulder and sat next to him with a sigh. "So now what?"

"Well, I think there's a _Mythbusters _marathon on today."

"Science and explosions: Donny's bedtime stories," Mikey said with a grin.

Don chuckled. "Something like that." He turned on the TV but kept the volume low, leaning back against the cushions with a sigh. Mikey sighed too, settling back to watch. Despite Don's discomfort, it wasn't long before Mikey saw him start to nod. Mikey pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over Don, covering him in the soft fleece up to his neck.

Don curled against him and closed his eyes, nestling closer under the blanket. "Thanks, Mikey," he mumbled.

Mikey smiled fondly, shifting a little so his brother's head could rest comfortably against his shoulder. He bent to butt his forehead gently against Don's temple. "You're welcome, Donny."

Donatello didn't answer. He was already asleep.


End file.
